Sleepless Night
by Lady Cookie-Monster
Summary: Another sleepless night, who's counting? The number of times it's happened, I should be used to this by now... Isn't love supposed to conquer all? Or is there even love at all? [Kendall!Angst]


**hey hi hello i wrote something :) it's been way too long since i've dabbled in the slash that is kames - or in btr fiction in general, and once inspiration hit i was not turning it down. so enjoy? :) I don't own anything.**

* * *

Kendall sits on the couch, his leg tapping restlessly. He checks the time; half past eight. Any minute now, he thinks, and his stomach flutters, doing flips and twists and turns, and he actually has to drink some water to calm himself down. Any minute now, he repeats to himself.

There's a knock on the door and eagerly he shouts, "It's open!" His leg bounces some more and he starts wringing his hands together.

The front door's been opened and Carlos walks inside. Kendall tries to hide his disappointment; he doesn't want to see him right now. There's only one person he wants to see. It's eight thirty-five. Any minute now.

"Hey Kendall," Carlos almost hesitantly walks towards Kendall - almost as if she's expecting him to pounce on him any second.

"Hey," he forces a smile.

"Um... what's up?" he asks. It's awkward, as if they're meeting for the first time and neither of them know what to say. The air is thick with tension; it's hard to swallow.

Kendall shrugs. "Nothing, just..." he trails off, then checks the time again. "He's late," he offers a pitiful expression, his voice small and sad.

Carlos' heart breaks for him. "Kendall-"

"Any minute now, right?" he's so hopeful, it's so sad. "Any minute now," he repeats it to himself, almost like he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"Kendall..." Carlos swallows; he doesn't know how to say this - he's never known. It's been an entire month of this, of Kendall hoping, of Kendall saying "any minute now". One long, heartbreaking month.

"You look tired," Carlos changes the subject. He always does. "Have you been getting much sleep?"

Kendall shrugs again, his foot's tapping again. "I don't sleep as well when he's not next to me," he admits. "The bed's too big... there's too much extra space. It's supposed to fit two people, not one," he's rambling now, and he's started to pick at the scabs - the scars - on his wrist. Carlos gently places a hand on his and he stops. They lock eyes; his once cheerful green orbs now lifeless and dull. Like someone had taken the light out of his life.

In a way, someone did.

"I know you worry about me," Kendall says, snapping Carlos back to reality. "But don't. I'm okay. And besides, James''ll be home any minute now. Then I'll sleep better because we'll be together again."

It's silent after that; Kendall just looks so convinced that James is coming home, but at the same time he just looks so... desperate. As if there's a part of him that isn't quite convinced and he needs just a little bit of encouragement that everything really is okay, that James really is coming home. Carlos can't give him that encouragement. He can't lie to him.

They've been doing this for a month now. Carlos comes over to check on him, and Kendall's sitting on the couch, always a little too twitchy - his legs are shaking, he's wringing his hands together, sometimes picking at his wrists, sometimes rocking back and forth. He's always checking the time and saying, "any minute now" - he's been doing this for a month.

It's been a month since James died. But Kendall still thinks he's coming home. It's been a month, but Kendall still tells everyone, "any minute now."

There's a knock at the door, and Carlos wants to thank not only God, but Jesus, right now. He tries to ignore the elated look on Kendall's face when he shouts, "It's open!"

Logan walks inside, and Kendall deflates. "Hey bro," Logan's smile is forced, but Kendall doesn't notice. "How you doing?"

"Fine," Kendall replies. He chews on his lips, glancing at the door again. He loves Carlos and Logan, he really does. But he doesn't want them here when James comes home. He wants him all to himself. He checks the time. Quarter to nine. Any minute now.

Logan looks around the apartment; it's a mess, no other way to put it. It's obvious cleaning has been the last thing on Kendall's mind. The doctors were wrong; Kendall wasn't planning on coming back to reality any time soon.

The dark haired boy looks at the package of chocolate chip cookies on the counter. They're stale by now; the eat by date was nearly a month passed. "You should probably throw these out," Logan suggests gently, as if he's choosing his words carefully. "They're way past their date,"

"I got them for James," Kendall replies automatically. "They're his favorites." he untangles his hands from Carlos' and scratches his wrist; it itches. He adds, "He'll be home any minute now. Any minute now. Then we'll have the cookies, and we'll make up. Yeah, any minute now."

Logan and Carlos look at each other; it's going to be another rough night.

"Kendall," Logan says slowly, going over to sit down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He looks at Kendall. He can see the bags under his eyes; he hasn't been sleeping. He can see the blonde's chapped lips; he's been biting them a lot. His shoulders are slumped, as if there's a weight pushing down on him. He's not the Kendall he used to know - not anymore. "Kendall," he repeats. "James' not... he's not coming home,"

Kendall shakes his head - he's lying, of course James is coming home. Any minute now. "I know we had a fight, and I know he's mad at me, but he's coming home." he insists. "Any minute-"

"Kendall, Logan's telling the truth," Carlos interrupts. "James isn't coming home."

"He is," Kendall raises his voice, as if they aren't hearing him. "He loves me, of course he's coming home!"

"Kendall, James is dead," Logan blurts out. Yes, it's a harsh, but he needs to hear it. It's been a month of this, and when Kendall's not laying in bed, void of emotion, he's waiting for James to come home, as if she's just going to waltz inside any moment. This is no way for him to live, he can't keep doing this to himself.

The room is deathly silent spare of Kendall's heavy breathing. "No," he finally says. "No, no you're lying,"

"Kendall, he's been gone for a month," Carlos tells him gently. "There was an accident, and -"

"No!" Kendall shakes his head, closes his eyes. They're lying, James is coming home. Any minute now.

"Kendall, you can't keep doing this to yourself," Logan's tell him, but Kendall shakes his head again. His chest feels tight. It hurts to breathe. "He wouldn't want you to live this way-"

"Stop it, he's not dead!" he sounds desperate, he can hear it in his voice.

"Kendall-"

"No, you're lying! He's not dead!" he covers his ears, he doesn't want to hear anymore. James is not dead; she'll be home any minute now.

"Kendall, Kendall, please," Carlos places a hand on his chin and turns his head towards him. He keeps a firm, but gentle grip on him. "Please, you have to listen. We're not lying to you, James' gone,"

"No!" Kendall's chest feels tighter, his head is spinning - the room is spinning. He feels like he's on a merry-go-round that won't stop. He's going to be sick.

He swallows thickly, "Any minute now," he whimpers. "Any minute now, and he'll be home," he's begging again, he sounds so desperate. He's pleading because it has to be true. James can't be dead, he can't be.

There was a fight - Kendall remembers the fight. They were both yelling, throwing things, saying things they didn't mean. James had stormed out - but he was coming back.

…Wasn't he?

Of course he was, they still have to make up. They have to say "I'm sorry," and "I love you," and they have to eat the cookies and they have to cuddle in bed together. They have to promise never to fight again. James has to come back so all of that can happen - he was coming back.

Kendall looks at the clock. Five past nine. "Any minute now," he chokes out softly. The words are getting harder and harder to say.

Carlos and Logan are lying. There was no accident.

(The hospital calls. They ask to speak to Kendall).

James' fine, he'll be home any minute now.

(They ask to speak to. There was an accident. Drunk driver. Head on collision.)

"Kendall, listen to us," Logan pleads with him. "James, he's..."

(Head on collision. Car totaled. James...)

(Neck snapped. Died on impact. Didn't make it.)

(Didn't make it.)

(Didn't make it.)

"No!" Kendall can't breathe, he wants to throw up. He's shaking, he can't stop shaking. He feels tears sliding down his face, he can't stop the tears. "No, no, no!" he checks the time. "Any minute now," he sobs. He feels Carlos wraps his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He doesn't feel better, nothing makes him feel better - nothing will make him feel better except for James. He can't be dead, he has to come home. "Please," Kendall begs through his tears. "Pleasepleaseplease tell me he's coming home pleasepleaseplease," James has to come home, Kendall has to say he's sorry.

He cries harder, he can't stop crying. Logan and Carlos hold him, they tell him it's okay, but it's not okay. James is gone - no, he's coming home, he has to come home. James loves Kendall, he has to come home. Kendall loves James, he needs to say he's sorry.

Kendall watches the door and cries until he can't feel anything at all.

It's late, or is it early? Kendall can't see the clock; Logan's blocking his view. Logan and Carlos stay the night, they sleep in bed with him and hold him, but it's not the same. He feels empty inside, hollow. His eyes hurt from crying, his chest hurts because he just remembered how to breathe normally. His wrists were bleeding but they finally stopped - he doesn't remember how that happened. He's so tired, but he can't sleep. He feels alone even with his friends holding him, he feels so small in this big bed.

He untangles his arms from the mess of limbs and hugs, and reaches across his friend for his cell phone - he needs to know what time it is. It's almost three in the morning. Another sleepless night, but who's counting at this point? Kendall hasn't gotten a decent night's sleep in a month. He can't sleep without James. He needs James.

Kendall sighs, his body deflating against the pillows. He checks the time one more time, and whispers to himself, "Any minute now,"

But in the back of his mind, a voice whispers back, "He's not coming home,"


End file.
